


Who's That Girl?

by LibKat



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Compliant Incestuous Relationship (past), F/M, Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Photobombing, not cersei friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 12:52:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17940050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibKat/pseuds/LibKat
Summary: A series of photobombs tracks the growing relationship between Jaime and Brienne ... and Cersei's reactions to it.





	Who's That Girl?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story for the JB Online pre season hype challenge. The prompt was photobombing. It's slightly altered from the version originally posted on the board.
> 
> This is not a Cersei friendly fic. If you are a Cersei fan, proceed at your own risk.
> 
> I'm not wild about writing in first person point of view, so this was an effort to expand my horizons.
> 
> Lots of other writers have previously used FaceHall, Ravens, and Westagram as names for Westeros social media sites. I hope they don't mind me borrowing.
> 
> Disclaimer:  A Song of Ice and Fire, Game of Thrones and these characters belong to a whole bunch of people who are not me.  I will return them undamaged when I am finished playing with them.

The tension rolled out of me like a wave when Rhaegar finally left the table to speak to the chef.  The constant pinging and vibrating had been an unwelcome soundtrack to our evening, irritating my future husband.  Though how he could be so unreasonable as to expect that I would _turn my phone off_ for a meal … well, that would change as soon as I got his ring on my finger.

It was Jaime’s text tone.  I don’t know how Tyrion messed with my phone settings, but the damned thing would just keep barfing out noise until I looked at it.

My eyes from rolled, even as I felt a tingle between my thighs.  Jaime had sent a short video of himself going to town on an ice cream cone.  Jaime had a very talented tongue.

“Is that your brother?”

Dammit, Rhaegar moved like a cat.  His ridiculous habit of complimenting a restaurant’s staff usually took much longer.

“Um-hmm,” I said.  “Jaime does love his ice cream.”  It was a weak cover, so I compensated by pressing my ever reliable tits against Rhaegar’s arm.

“Are you sure it’s ice cream he’s loving.  Look at that huge woman in the seat next to him.  She’s practically turning purple.”

I hadn’t noticed the hideous beast intruding on the corner of the frame.  My mind did it’s best to overlook ugly people whenever possible.

“Jaime’s a kidder,” I said weakly.

“Not that I ever noticed at school.”  Rhaegar fiddled with his empty wine glass, then looked at his watch.  “We’d best go.  I have a busy day tomorrow.  I’ll have my driver drop you at home.”

“But, Rhaegar,” my voice squeaked for a moment before I got my usual purring tone back under control, ‘it’s our third date.  I thought you’d come up tonight.”

Purple eyes darted around the room, landing everywhere but on me. 

“Another time, Cersei.  I really must get home to prepare for my trip.”

“Trip!  You never said anything about a trip!” 

Rhaegar practically pulled me out of my seat and propelled me towards the door.  What was happening here?

Rhaegar’s smile was a weak shadow of the charming grin that had dazzled me at the start of the evening.

“It came up suddenly.  I didn’t want to ruin our dinner.  I’ll call you when I get back in a few weeks.”

I was practically pushed into the arms of Rhaegar’s driver. 

“See Lady Cersei home, Arthur.  I’ll chat with Chef Lyanna until you return for me.”

Without even a peck on my cheek, Rhaegar turned away and left me standing on the sidewalk.

Had _I_ just been dumped?  Gods damn it, Jaime!

***

The only good thing that could be said about Robert was that he had a realistic attitude towards cell phones.  He wasn’t nearly as handsome or cultured as Rhaegar.  In truth, he was a coarse, crude boor, though quite a rich one.  But _he,_ at least, didn’t mind if I browsed FaceHall, Ravens, and Westagram while he watched his silly little sporting events.  We were next to one another on his sofa, but we might as well have been in different cities.

I’d been reduced to checking social media tags to keep up with my brother’s doings.  Jaime had thrown a tantrum when I laid down the law after the Rhaegar fiasco.  He retaliated by cutting off all direct communication with me.  I only heard from him in update emails Father insisted we send to the whole family.

There hadn’t been so much as a dick pic in months.

Well, not one of Jaime’s.  Robert sent me pictures of his genitals almost hourly.

I was reduced to FaceHall stalking my own other half.

My latest find was a ludicrous coffee shop picture tagged #Stormlands Veterinary College, #study break, #Jaime Lannister is an ass.  The last tag must have referred to the stupid kissy face Jaime was making behind that incredibly ugly woman who was appearing occasionally in pictures with Jaime.

“You didn’t tell me your brother knew Brienne.”

Robert must have decided not to go get yet another beer this commercial break.

“Brienne?”  I raised an eyebrow to punctuate the question.  Robert could be thick as a brick.

“Brienne Tarth.”  Robert’s tone implied _I_ was the thick one.  “The ugly, blonde chick.  She and Renly have been tight for years.  Jaime’s smart, glomming onto her.”

Was Robert speaking in tongues?

“Jaime?  Glomming?”

“Yeah.  Renly says Brienne is brilliant.  Top marks in everything.  Her study buddies always pass.  And then there’s her father.”

Words were being said but I couldn’t make sense of them.

“Her father?”

Robert’s beer breath washed over me as he laughed.  “I thought you knew the highborn families backwards and forwards, babe.  Selwyn Tarth.”  He paused as if that name was supposed to mean something to me.  “Evenstar Stables.  They bred half of the Derby winners in the last 10 years.  Her father owns it.  She’s going to inherit the lot when old Selwyn croaks.  Jaime wants to get into racing, right?  Tyrion mentioned that’s why he’s going to Vet School.  A connection to Evenstar would go a long way starting his career.  Might even be motivation enough to try to mount The Beauty.”

My thoughts tumbled over one another as I tried to absorb what Robert was saying.

“The Beauty?”

“Nickname some dudes gave Brienne.  Course she’s not.  Ugly as the ass end of one of her horses.  Still …”

Robert’s piggy little eyes narrowed, a sure indication he was thinking about sex.  His eyes spent so much time that way, it was a miracle he didn’t run into walls.

Jaime would never.  He was angry, but he wouldn’t.  He belonged to me.  He knew that this was only a little hiccup in our intertwined fates, just until I was safely married and established.  Didn’t he?

***

The whiskey burned all the way down.  Good gods, how did Robert stand this stuff?  But this was a bottle worth hundreds of dragons and I was going to finish the whole bloody thing before my lying, cheating husband dragged himself off his current whore and back to our home.

Robert’s Tyroshi leather recliner was oh so comfortable.  The spike heels on my shoes were doing an excellent job of digging deep grooves into the upholstery.  Just a few more passes and the stuffing would begin to pop through.

_Wha?_

The buzzing of my phone startled me awake.  It took several tries but I managed to unlock it.  The FaceHall notification led me to the demon imp’s page. 

#Jamie Lannister.  #Brienne Tarth.  #Valedictorians.  #Graduation.

The picture was of my traitorous twin and the revolting beast he now called his best friend. 

As though she could ever know him better than I did!

They were in their caps and gowns, holding their rolled up, temporary diplomas as they grinned at one another.

Was the photo out of focus or was it my eyes?

Just there in the background.  Tall, balding, ramrod straight in a bespoke grey suit, a tight little smile quirking his lips.  Was that …

Father!

***

Gods, Pentos was so fucking boring!  How much longer would my exile go on?

Was it really my fault?  Father had insisted that I leave the country until everything could blow over.  So now I was stuck in this passé resort town while all of Westeros enjoyed the winter social season.

My phone buzzed with yet another unwanted notification.  When would it end?  I opened it anyway.  More innuendo-laden headlines with that gods damned picture.

My father stood before the Winterfest tree raising his glass in a toast.  A toast to my twin, my other half and the hideous creature he had his arm around and was snogging for all he was worth.  The hideous creature that was wearing _my mother’s_ engagement ring on her enormous left hand.

It was my face in the background that made the long lens varysazzi photo a favorite from Hardhome to Naath.  My eyes were widened, my mouth was open, just getting ready for the scream I let out at the news that Jaime, _my_ Jaime, was throwing himself away on a travesty of a woman like Brienne Tarth.

More photos had followed that one, taken by supposed friends whipping out their cells when they smelled scandal.  Me throwing champagne into the cow’s face.  Me trying to kick Jaime in his dangly bits.  The cow pushing Jaime out of the way as I attempted to emasculate him with my size six Manolo.  Me trying to get around the giant bitch to scratch my brother’s eyes out and Tyrion tripping me.  Me colliding with a server and landing in a platter of shrimp puffs.  Father having his security team escort me out.

But this one was everybody’s favorite, printed over and over, meme’d time and again.  Tyrion made sure I saw every single one of them.

It was horrible.

I didn’t even _know_ I could take a bad picture.


End file.
